So I'm the midget lesbian, except I'm not really sure about the lesbian bit (unfortunately, I'm quite sure about the midget part) and besides, pastoral implies something pleasant, which this is anything but.

Anyways, hello again. I'm back for one of my semi-annual and entirely unfair unloadings upon the folks at Oasis.

So, previously on The Life and Times of Cynical1: I didn't like guys, and did not understand this crush nonsense. I discovered that I liked girls. I kinda liked a guy. I decided I was done with labels. I decided I was bi. I decided bi didn't quite cover it, what with the implication of an equal-liking of genders, and besides that I was too confused to fit a label to myself.

Now, right now, life is stressful even without the whole gay thing. Academically, I feel like my life is made up of tests that I don't know the answer to. Which is sadly also an apt metaphor for my sexual orientation.

1.Are you:
A. Gay
B. Bi
C. Straight

Okay, well we can cross off C, but other than that it's up to eni-meni-mini-mo. Damn it. I guess I have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, at any rate.

So, I feel like screaming that I'm gay off the top of roof tops, but I don't want to pull one of those “Bi-gay-straight, no god damn it's bi!” Which is silly, 'cause I doubt anyone cares that much. After all, it's me—practically asexual in the eyes of everyone around me.

I'm feeling so—I don't know. Confined? I guess it's the Heterosexual Lovefest that's been going on around me that's pissed me off. My kinda best friend suddenly got a boyfriend—her first—and I'm left standing in the dust. She didn't tell me they kissed, or pretty much anything—but she told this other chick. WTF? You'd think, being her best friend and all, I'd be first on her list. But nooo. Despite the fact that I was there for her for years—through her parents' divorce, and all her previous life troubles—she now goes running to someone else when life gets good.

Granted, previous to this whole gaining a boyfriend thing, I did complain about said boyfriend non-stop. Though in my defense, she never mentioned that she liked him, or stopped me in the least. She even chimed in! And apparently she's liked him for years, but that's news to me—she didn't even tell me herself!

So I'm rip shit about that, not gonna lie. Not to mention that I seriously can't stand this guy and I'm afraid he's gonna dump her when something better comes along. I'll be left to clean up the pieces, and that other chick to whom she told her sordid love affair is going to be off waltzing with /her/ boyfriend.

When will the straigtness stop?!

Damn it, I'm lonely. I want a girlfriend, or at least a fellow girl-who-likes-girls.

Okay, fine. I know what you're going to say—get out of your way and get out of the goddamn closet. And trust me, I totally agree with you on this one. I just, I don't know, can't. I want experience, I want to have a reason to come out. Which I know is ridiculous. But I feel like until some evidence comes along to support my claims, I can't come out. Which I also know is ridiculous. I mean, I can't wait till I come out to get a girlfriend. After all, getting a girlfriend while being semi-unattractive and closeted in a rural, close-minded town is difficult, nigh on impossible.

Ergo, I need to suck it up and come out.

But I don't have a label. So I can't. But I need to. And so you see—a never-ending circle. Argh.

I don't know what it is—I'm going through one of those times where I just really need to tell people, even though I know I'm not ready. So to get around this, I get this bizarre urge to tell people I don't know in the least, while wanting to hide it from my actual friends/family. Weird, no?

Okay, this is long. I'll stop now.

See you in another three months... (no really, I will try to write more consistently. )